Baby Blues
by oneiromancer242
Summary: How cute was Peter as a toddler? Erik is about to find out - but not in any way he could have anticipated.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N : For you, Petra! Hope this makes you feel better after I broke your poor heart...**

 **POLL : Vote for your favourite OC on my profile :-D**

1.

For about the 75th time that day, Scott wondered why he had been sent on this particular mission with possibly the least quiet, most uncontrollable, most distractible member of the team. They could have sent anyone – Kurt, Jubilation, even Hank if he could have spared the time – but for some reason Professor Xavier had chosen to send Peter along.

It wasn't that they didn't get on. Scott had grown to like the speedster, respect his unique skill set and not find him quite so annoying once he'd seen through the façade of cool-as-heck to the vulnerable boy underneath. He still wasn't always fun to work with though, not when the job in question involved retrieving a small, delicate piece of machinery from a lab that would need to be infiltrated subtly and above all, quietly. He'd already stopped the kid running into motion-sensing lasers three times that day, irritated when Peter had just said

"I can outrun a laser, who cares?"

"I can't, and it'll trigger an alarm" Scott had told him firmly, "Now try and stay with me, Maximoff, this won't take long"

"I could have just run in and got it you know" he said, slightly peevish, "It wouldn't have taken a second. Nobody would even have seen me and by the time the alarms rang, I'd be long gone"

"Do you even know what we're here for?"

"Sure! It's a… micro-thingy. A chip. Do you have any Doritos? Suddenly I really want Doritos"

"And that's exactly why you're not doing this alone," Scott told him, "You'd probably forget what you were doing halfway through and go raid a vending machine"

"I would object to that, but you have no idea how much I want Doritos right now"

Scott clenched his jaw in frustration at his teammate. He did know that the boy had to keep eating or he'd wipe out, but sometimes his random cravings did get a little much.

"Eat a bar, you'll feel better" he told him "*quietly*"

Finally emerging into the main lab, Scott had immediately checked for traps and turned to motion Peter over finding it safe. He wasn't where Scott had left him safely in the doorway, and he looked around and sighed heavily as he saw Peter zipping around between the benches, thoroughly overexcited.

"Dude this is a real Mad Scientist lab!" he whispered delightedly, "Just LOOK at all this cool stuff!"

"Don't touch anything," Scott hissed back, "We get the chip, we leave, we go home. Okay?"

"Oh- _kaaaay_ " Peter said, huffed and stood still for about two seconds before his eyes had lit on something else he wanted to investigate.

"Got it!" Scott called quietly, gently tucked the chip away in the little storage container he'd been given, looked around for his team-mate, "Maximoff! What did I say about not touching?!"

He'd caught Peter almost in the act of pressing a very tempting bright blue button on a large panel. He drew his finger back as if it had been burned, in front of Scott in a blink looking very irritable

"I'm not a child, Summers!" he hissed. Scott tried to warn him not to lean on what he was about to – a small podium that contained a sleek black console, one of the buttons of which Peter was just about to put his hand on. Later Scott would say he could never have reacted in time, that nobody could have, and it was probably true. There was a blinding white flash that dazzled Scott momentarily, instinctively turning to shade his eyes from the glare, and when he looked back, Peter was gone again. Panic ran through Scott like a sword in his gut.

He had stared around the deserted lab for several minutes, thought about calling for his team-mate, before he jumped at a movement from behind the podium. Peered behind it to see the legs of Peter's uniform dragging behind a small, toddling creature holding its arms out for balance. The rest of the uniform swathed its little body, sleeves flapping behind it, neckline hanging around its tiny shoulders. Caught up to the little creature just before it tripped over the dragging clothing and scooped it up, holding it up under the arms and seeing the familiar brown eyes looking back at him.

"Oh _helI"_ Scott whispered to himself, "Your father's going to kill me".


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N : Your high-pitched squealing is entirely your own fault. Not mine. Uh-uh...**

2.

Hank looked at the small boy sitting on one of the beds in the infirmary, not quite believing the evidence of his eyes. Scott had changed him out of the enormously oversized combat suit and into the spare t-shirt Peter had left in the jet. It still bagged around him like a huge dress, but at least it covered everything without putting him in too much danger of tripping. The boy seemed quite contented, sitting on the bed looking around with huge, wide eyes, a mop of fluffy platinum-blonde hair mussed around his chubby cheeks. Unmistakeably Peter, though very still and quiet for him.

He checked the boy over, watched Scott fluster and panic whilst he tried to explain what had happened. Finished his examination and stood, adjusting his glasses

"Well the good news is he's perfectly healthy" Hank said, could not resist bending down to ruffle the blonde mop, "He seems to be a totally normal boy of around four or five I'd say. Fine in every measurable parameter"

"And…?" Scott asked, tense with anticipation

"You now have to explain to Erik that his son is a toddler. Also, when I said everything's perfectly normal, I mean – OWW!" he winced and grabbed the stethoscope out of his ears as Peter had grabbed hold of the dangling bell and tapped hard on it with one hand. The child giggled, put his fingers in his mouth and looked up at Hank with mischief in his eyes, "As I was saying, everything's normal. For a human"

"You mean he's… normal? No powers?"

"Well, his heart rate and blood pressure are absolutely what I would expect in a healthy toddler, as is his apparent bone density, weight, body fat percentage and reflexes. From what I know about Peter's history, he didn't begin to express his mutation until he was eleven years old. It could be that he's just regressed back to a stage of development before that, and still carries an inactive X gene"

"Or I could have just wiped out the fastest speedster that's ever been known" Scott sat down hard in a chair, rubbed his hands through his hair.

"I'll study the console," Hank said comfortingly, "There must be a way to reverse the process. Try not to worry, Scott"

Peter had wriggled over toward the seated boy, putting a hand out to his face. Scott quickly clamped a hand over his shades, seeing that the toddler was reaching to pull them off.

"No!" he snapped, waved a finger in warning, "Bad! Don't do that!"

Peter recoiled from his harsh tone, plonked himself back onto his bottom and looked at Scott for a moment with a quivering lower lip and filling eyes.

"Oh no no no.. don't… I didn't mean it Peter, please don't – " He was too late, however, and Peter had begun to wail at an ear-splitting volume, "Great. What do we do now?"

Hank scooped up the wailing babe, cuddling him against his shoulder, patting his back and making soothing sounds until the wails had subsided into hiccupy little sobs. One little hand reaching around to take Hank's glasses instead. He seemed happy once he had them, raising them in a tiny fist and grinning in an undeniably cute and cheeky fashion.

"I think," the doctor said, "You'd better go and get his father"

Erik had held the little bundle at arm's length, regarding him with a look of both puzzlement and distain. Peter gazed back at him, huge eyes glowing with happiness

"How soon can you turn him back?" he asked

"I don't know if I can at all" Hank admitted, "But I'll try my hardest, I promise."

"And what am I supposed to do with… this in the meantime?" the little boy giggled infectiously at him, wriggled in his grasp, reaching out with both little arms

"Look after him, Erik" Hank told him patiently, "He's still Peter, he's just a… different version of him. Look at it as a second chance to share his childhood with him"

"I don't like toddlers, Dr McCoy" Erik said coldly, "They wiggle, they babble, they get into trouble, they hurt themselves, they eat things they shouldn't, then they puke, and they need constant attention"

"Sounds exactly like Peter normally" Scott remarked, backing off a little from Erik's glare.

Straining with all his might to reach Erik, Peter wriggled some more and finally said in a tiny, wheedling little voice

"Daddy! Daaaad-deeeee!"

Erik's heart melted. He looked at the grasping hands and pulled the little boy in close, arranging him with his legs resting around his waist and one hand under his butt to support him, rocking gently with him. Peter snuggled in contentedly and grabbed the back of Erik's shirt with one hand, jammed the other thumb into his mouth and closed his eyes, resting his head on his father's chest. He looked perfectly happy there. Erik gazed down at him with a fond, wistful smile, before he had cleared his throat and looked back at Hank, tried to inject some force and grit into his voice.

"I suppose I'd better get this little monstrosity some proper clothes" he said, "He is housebroken, isn't he?"

"Scott," Hank called over to the boy who was still hanging back, "Make yourself useful – go and see if any of the Juniors group have any spare clothes that would fit?"

Obligingly, Scott had left. Hank grinned at Erik gently rocking his son on his hip. It looked so natural, the way he did that, and Peter was clearly absolutely contented, heaving a little sigh and yawning.

"Don't pretend you're not going to enjoy this" Hank told him with a conspiratorial smile. Erik narrowed his eyes at him, grunted in the most unamused way possible, and turned to carry Peter off to his room.


	3. Chapter 3

3.

The very second Magda picked up the telephone, she had known something was badly wrong. Erik sounded forcibly cheery, in a way that he only did when he had bad news to break.

"Hello, Magda. I hope everything's well with you at the moment? I was just ringing for a little chat, is now a good time?"

"What's happened to Peter?" she asked.

"What on earth do you mean?!" he even tried out a short little laugh that just made her worry more. Erik had two laughs; the amused snigger he tried to hold in, and this high nervous one that he erroneously thought sounded genuine, "Peter's absolutely fine! He's right here with me now in fact"

"Let me speak to him"

"Magda…"

"Erik" she closed her eyes, sighed, held her patience, "What have you let our son do to himself now? Tell me he just has the 'flu, or he broke another limb, just tell me he's okay"

"Alright. But I want a solemn vow from you that you won't come tearing up to the Academy today or panic? Because everything is absolutely in hand"

"Erik Lensherr if you don't tell me what's happened to our son this moment then so help me I will –"

"He's a toddler!" Erik blurted out, "Please don't ask me how, but he was involved in a little accident, and apparently he's been regressed to about four years of age. Now, he's absolutely fine, I just need to talk to you"

There was a long silence on the line.

"A toddler."

"Yes"

"Peter is now a toddler"

"Yes, look I –"

Erik held the receiver away from his ear as a stream of abuse poured out of it. Considered covering his son's ears to protect them from some of the words that his mother was spouting at that moment. Peter sat quietly on his lap, playing with a snow-globe that he had found on Erik's shelf, looking absolutely enraptured by the tiny world inside. Finally, Magda's tirade stopped, and she sounded breathless when he put the receiver back to his ear.

"Finished?" he asked in a cool, arch tone

"Let me speak to my son!" she yelled, rattled his eardrums all over again. Erik sighed and tapped his son on the shoulder, put the receiver to his ear. Balancing the snow-globe between his legs he held on with both hands to it, Erik tried not to let it show how his heart squeezed with delight at how big the receiver looked against his tiny head.

"Peter, honey it's Mom, are you okay?"

"Mommy!" he squealed. Erik just about caught the snow-globe before it rolled over the floor, "I love you Mommy!"

"Yes, hon, I know, I love you too, very very much. But are you alright?"

"Uh huh" he nodded, clearly unaware as yet that she couldn't see him do that, "M'okay. Daddy's here. M'hungry though"

"Oh sweetie," Magda sighed, "You go get your Daddy to get you some lunch – give the 'phone back to Daddy now. Momma loves you sweetheart"

When Erik had taken the receiver out of Peter's hands, he could almost feel the stony fury Magda was emanating down the line at him, speaking in a quiet, clipped tone that he remembered was probably the greatest expression of her disapproval.

"I have no idea what happened to him," she told him, "Or why. But you take care of that baby boy, Erik. Or I will kill you. You understand? I will rip you apart with my bare hands and teeth and don't for a second think I'm exaggerating. Go feed him, he wants mac and cheese, that's his favourite. Bedtime is half past six, and he needs a nightlight, he's scared of the dark. And be prepared to get up in the middle of the night to make him a PB&J"

"Thank you," Erik told her quietly, "I have no idea what I'm doing with him"

Magda softened a little. On the other end of the 'phone, she smiled fondly, remembering her baby boy when he really had been a cute, enthusiastic little toddler.

"He likes blocks" she said, "give him a pile of building blocks and he'll play for hours quite happily. And you have to smash his towers down"

"Really?" Erik said incredulously. Nina had hated it when her towers fell, always ended up in floods of tears, "Why?"

"He likes the noises. Don't ask me why, but he always did. And he's quiet – don't worry about it. He didn't start talking properly until he was about six"

Magda could hear her son now, whining at his father to get him some lunch. Smiled again and even laughed a little. Peter really hadn't changed all that much when he grew up – food was still the most important thing in his life, even at that age.

"Daddy! Mac and cheeses!" he was whining. Nobody could resist that tone.

"I'm gonna go now, Erik." She said softly, "Please will you keep me posted? God knows I worry enough when he's not a helpless baby"

"I will" he told her, before the signal was muted by what sounded like him scrabbling to pull the receiver away from somebody very insistently trying to take it, "I think he's going to eat me if I don't take him for lunch soon"

Finally allowing Peter to take the receiver out of his hands, surprised when the boy had smashed it down onto the cradle and turned to him with a petulant pout, looking very peeved and irritated.

"Mac and cheeses!" he screamed. Erik sighed and set him on his feet. Walked him down to the lunch room and hoped that nobody would pay too much attention to them.

His wishes were not to be fulfilled. The entire time they had sat, Peter spreading cheese all over his face, they had been repeatedly bothered by what seemed like an endless parade of students coming to coo and fuss over the toddler. For his part, as soon as he'd had enough of his lunch Peter had accepted the attention gladly, sat like a little grinning doll whilst girls and boys ruffled his hair and examined his tiny hands and made much of him. Erik thought he was absolutely loving it.

"Oh he's *adorable* Mr Lensherr!" Jubilee had gushed, "And he looks so much like Peter! Is he his little brother?"

"Umm. Yes, yes Miss Lee" he said hesitantly, watched as Jubilee tickled Peter under the chin, producing another infectious little giggle that she couldn't help but join in with, "I'm looking after him for a little while"

"What's your name sweetie?" she crouched down, on a level with the huge dark eyes that were watching her intently, cheesy face aglow with the happiness of having a fuss made of him

"Peter" he told her. She looked at Erik quizzically

"Did I say brother? Cousin. He's Peter's little cousin… who is also called Peter"

"Oh…. Well that's cute! He is just plain wonderful, you need any help with him you just ask. I *love* kids! How old are you, Peter?"

"M'four" he told her. Held up three fingers. Jubilee chuckled kindly and took his pudgy little hand, pulled another finger up for him.

"That's one, two, three, and four!" she said kindly, touching his fingertips as she went, "Now show me how old you are, how many?"

This time, Peter held up all four fingers and his thumb. She laughed again.

"I sure hope someone's going to teach you to count better than that soon, sweetheart" she said, "Buh-bye now Peter, you be a good boy!"

She left them alone. Erik gave his son a penetrating look, reached over with a napkin to clean the cheese off his face. Asked him seriously

"Show me four fingers"

Immediately, Peter held up four, grinned at him very sweetly. Erik rolled his eyes, continued his cleaning job.

"I knew it. You little monster"


	4. Chapter 4

4.

Peter had eventually settled to sleep very suddenly and unexpectedly. Had insisted that his mother let him stay up longer, and sat with his father playing with a couple of toy cars they had found, fascinated by Erik's ability to push his car around without touching it. Quite happily making _brum! brum!_ noises and crashing his own car into Erik's until he had suddenly yawned widely and raised himself up from his position laying on the floor. Toddled over to his father and put his arms around his neck. Erik accepted the little cuddle, returned it gently, realising within a few minutes that Peter was sagging against his hands and had actually dozed off on his feet with his head resting on his father's shoulder. He tried nudging him a little, finding that instead of stirring, the boy had only gently folded his legs and planted himself on his backside, carried right on snoozing. Erik scooped him up into his arms, simply sat for a little while with his son sprawled over his lap, watching the movements of his slow, even breathing and the little fluttering in his long blonde eyelashes.

He had never realised before how much he had missed by being absent when Peter had been this age the first time around. He was such a happy child, so easy to amuse and so full of love and joy and wonder. To him, there was nothing bad in the world that couldn't be solved by running to the nearest comfortable adult and getting a big, loving hug. Little wonder that his tactility and need for physical comfort – from cuddles to hand-holding to good food, to warm, soft blankets – had stuck with him right through to early adulthood. He was so normal and untroubled at this age, yet to be damaged and taught to be lonely and afraid by the physical and psychological torment of his mutation coming on in increments. He slept innocently and peacefully, with nothing to trouble his mind and no insane metabolic demands meaning that he would wake up cold and starving within 45 minutes.

Erik had carried him to his own double bed, moved a lamp with a dimmer switch over to the other side of the room and left it turned down low to cast a warm yellow glow over Peter's sleeping body. Lay for a while watching his son, thinking how odd it was to see him with that white-blonde hair he'd had before it turned silver, odder still to see his face look chubby and soft, when he had to Erik's knowledge always been lean and without an ounce to spare. Settled down and slept peacefully himself until he had been woken by an insistent little hand prodding him hard in the face, turning over and blinking blearily at his son.

"M'hungry, Daddy" he whined. After less than 24 hours, Erik was already getting very used to that whine. He'd hauled himself up out of bed, gone down to the kitchen to fetch a cup of tea for himself, a big glass of milk and a PB&J for his son. Sat beside him watching him devour the sandwich as though he hadn't eaten all day. Some things never changed, he thought. Had always put his son's enormous appetite down to his mutation, but was now realising that some of that was just the way he'd always been. Peter had settled back down quickly after his 3AM snack, curled up against Erik's body with one of his father's arms around him, soon fell deeply and comfortably asleep. Woken Erik again at half past six demanding breakfast. He'd given in at that point, gladly allowed Jean, up early herself, to fetch Peter a stack of pancakes, and look after him whilst Erik got a couple more hours sleep. It had been a while since he'd been disturbed from sleep by a demanding toddler, and he wasn't quite used to it anymore.

When he had finally caught up, Erik had peered around the door of her room to see Jean sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding her hands gently near a stack of brightly-coloured wooden blocks that Peter was building up. The stack was taller than him now, so that he had to stand on tiptoe to place another on top. Jean was beaming in a way he had never seen on her pretty, pensive face before.

"Okay?" She asked, "is it big enough, shall we do it now?"

Peter nodded enthusiastically, stood back a little in grinning anticipation. Jean let the blocks go, and he cheered and jumped as they came crashing to the ground in a noisy pile

"Yaaaaay!" Jean clapped along with him, "That one was really good! What can we build next?"

"You're very good with him, Miss Grey" Erik told her. She jumped, not having seen him there, "Do you have younger siblings?"

"Oh… no. Just me. But I love children. They're so…"

"Untroubled"

"Yes" she smiled, gathered up the blocks again into a heap. "He's a sweet kid, Mr Lensherr, he's been no trouble at all"

Peter had darted over to where his father was standing, grabbed hold of one hand and pulled him in. Magda was right, he really did speak very little – communicated an enormous amount with a look or a gesture, but hardly spoke a word unless he really felt his needs weren't being met. Erik wondered why that was – he seemed intelligent enough, no sign of any sort of learning difficulty, but he seemed so reluctant to use his voice. Erik supposed he had made up for it after he had begun talking, hadn't really stopped since, but if he hadn't been warned about it he would have been genuinely concerned at how silent his son could be. Coming as he was bid, he looked to Jean for permission, received it, and settled himself down on the floor with them.

"What are we building?" he asked his son, who had already begun collecting the bricks into a large ring-shaped structure. Erik noticed that some of the blocks were obviously from some sort of construction set, and had little metal pegs in the sides, noticed also that Peter was carefully sorting them so that those metal-studded bricks formed the bottom row

"Football ground" he said, looked up at his father and offered him one of those half-shy half-cheeky smiles. Gave Erik a handful of bricks and let him build the round structure up with the two of them. They played quietly, following Peter's virtually silent direction to build a large, surprisingly robust construction. When at last he seemed satisfied he grabbed his father's hands again, this time held them over the block building and gently lifted them up, gave him a pleading look. Erik understood. Gently grasped for the metal-studded blocks in the bottom and lifted the slightly wobbling structure into the air several feet, before letting it go and letting it break apart in a clattering shower of bricks that made Peter laugh and clap and jump all over again.

"Wow, you smashed that good!" Jean remarked delightedly, sharing in the boy's happiness, "He smashed it up well, didn't he?!"

"Yes," Erik said quietly, caught his son's eye, "I smashed that stadium very well, didn't I Peter?"

The boy nodded. Looked up shyly and saw the searching, curious look his father gave him. Turned back to gathering the scattered bricks again with a sly, knowing smile.


	5. Chapter 5

5.

To say that all way not going well in Hank's lab was a mild understatement. Erik had not seen him at first, bent under his desk looking for the jewellery screwdriver that had just rolled under there, startled when he heard his name called and banging his head on the underside. He came up scowling, rubbing the back of his head, snapping

"What?! Oh… Erik. Sorry. I…"

"Is this not a good time?" Erik asked mildly, stepping in a little further to see that a tangle of clips and wires were now running from the removed back of the console Scott had brought back, looked at Hank and smiled slightly, "Are you aware that you're missing most of an eyebrow?"

"Perfectly aware, thank you" he smiled back tightly, looked remarkably unamused, "Don't step on that! It's the earthing cable for this. It seems to have an internal power supply I can't locate"

"No luck reverse-engineering it yet then?"

"Not so much. All I've managed to get it to do so far is scorch the desk. It's certainly not ready to try out on Peter yet at any rate. Where is the little tyke anyway?"

"Tyke? Tyrant is more like it" Erik couldn't quite suppress a fond little smile, "He's napping, Jubilee is with him. I give it an hour before he's up demanding food again – honestly, are all toddlers unstoppable eating machines?"

"Most of them, in my experience. Though he's probably worse than most. Everything going alright?"

Honestly, everything had been going more than alright. That afternoon Erik had decided to get them both some fresh air, taken Peter down to the lake at the far east of the estate. His son had held tightly to his hand the entire way, though seeming not to really need it for security, just liking the contact, trotting briskly to keep up with Erik's long strides. There were ducks on the lake, and Erik had been surprised when as soon as he'd seen them Peter had darted down to the edge and pulled a handful of broken crackers out of his pocket, evidently coming prepared for the prospect of ducks to feed. Smiling broadly, he had sat close by and watched his son feed the ducks, giggle when they had waddled out of the lake to cluster around his legs and quack anxiously at him for more crackers. Most children might have been a little spooked by the press of feathery bodies, the hard little bills nibbling at their fingers and the noises they were making, but Peter had simply found them amusing and stood still, treating the animals with a seemingly instinctive calm that had soon had them literally eating out of his hand.

Erik had thought of Nina then, and all her little woodland friends. Of the tame squirrel that had sat on her shoulder and taken nuts from her hand, the rabbits who had followed her around wherever she went. Peter was perhaps three years younger than she had been when he'd lost her. Defenceless without his powers, far too trusting in the same way Nina had been. She too had been a gentle, loving soul, and he wondered how someone like him had twice managed to produce a child with such a beautiful heart in them. Wished he'd had a camera to capture that adorable, delighted smile on his son's face when he had crouched down and offered a handful of cracker crumbs to one of the birds, and it had pecked them up with surprising gentleness, as if it could tell that it didn't have to hurry.

They had walked around the lake a little way, at first in comfortable silence, until Erik had asked,

"Why don't you talk, Peter?"

The little boy offered him an exaggerated shrug, as if he was only just learning how to do it

"I talk when I want" he'd said happily, "Just not much to say s'all"

It was a soberingly adult statement, and Erik hoped that wasn't an indication that his son's long-standing difficulties with the value of his own contributions to the world had already started. Felt somehow that it wasn't, and that Peter simply spoke when he felt he had something worth saying, and otherwise stayed quiet. He certainly seemed contented with things that way. In that way he had of being gripped by sudden fancies, he had stopped and held his arms out to Erik, gazed up at him

"Spin me?" he'd asked. His father took his hands. Peter had screamed with delight as Erik whizzed him around until his feet left the ground. Closing his eyes tight, grinning all the while, keeping a tight hold of his father's hands. Erik found himself genuinely laughing with him, until finally he had slowed and put him down, sat down on the ground himself. Peter made a little disappointed noise, held out his hands and said "Again?"

"Not yet," Erik laughed, pulled the boy down to snuggle into his lap, "I'm dizzy, and you're surprisingly heavy"

"S'cos I'm strong" he'd announced, Flexed both tiny arms and grinned proudly. Erik made a point of feeling the little biceps, made an impressed face

"Why yes you are, you'll be ever so big and strong when you grow up" he said. Felt a little bad about the slight lie – he'd certainly he strong, but anything but big. At last Peter had been ready to go back, yawning before they had made it halfway back to the mansion having played himself tired. Erik scooped him up again, resumed his position with his legs straddling his father's waist, balanced on his hip. Erik could feel his little fingers working the fabric of his shirt between them, soon a dead dozing weight in his father's arms that hadn't stirred when he'd set him down to nap and left him with the adoring Jubilation. Decided he should probably check on Hank's progress. Whilst he secretly wouldn't have minded if Peter were to stay that way, he thought his mother might have other opinions on the matter – and he didn't want him to have to go through the horrors of his teens again.

"Hank…" he asked hesitantly, "Do you think this has been a – um – a complete de-ageing process?"

"What do you mean?" the doctor mumbled, had resumed his exploration of the console

"Well, do you think he could be retaining any of his adult memories? Earlier, I was sure he was trying to tell me he remembered something that had happened when he was seventeen. Perhaps I was wrong, but it was very… odd"

"Anything's possible, Erik" Hank sighed, didn't look up from his work, "I've never seen technology like this – in fact, I would have called it utterly impossible. If he does have any of his adult functions or memories though, he wouldn't really be able to express them. He has a toddler's brain after all, he doesn't have the cognitive capacity to interpret those functions at the moment. Why do you ask anyway? Does he seem unhappy?"

"Oh no, quite the opposite. He's the happiest child I've ever seen. I just… I wonder"

"Well when we put him back to normal, we'll find out. In the meantime I could suggest an explanation for how unusually happy he appears?"

"He's abnormally stupid and hasn't learned how cruel the world is yet?"

"No, Erik" Hank looked at him kindly, "He's just pleased to have his father around. If he does recall anything, then he probably remembers having no father at that age. You saw how delighted he was to see you"

"Well…. I suppose he did seem quite happy about that"

"You're being a good father to him. Obviously I can't speak for him, but in his position I would be overjoyed about that. In any case, you'd better go see if he's woken up yet, it's almost dinner time"

"Will you tell me as soon as you fix that thing please? I'd really like a good night's sleep"

"I will, I assure you. As soon as we know it's safe then you can have your 27-year-old handful back. Until then, just try to enjoy him. Not many people can say they've had this chance."

Erik tried to look irritated, he really did, but the truth was he *was* enjoying it. Leaving Hank to get on with his work in peace, making his way back up to Peter's room and finding that Jubilee was sat with him curling his fingers around one of her hands, smiling beautifically down at the little boy who had begun to stir when his father arrived.

"Thank you Miss Lee, it's much appreciated"

"Anytime!" the girl said, gave Peter's fingers a final delicate squeeze before she had risen to leave, "He is such a little angel. His Mom and Dad are the luckiest people"

Peter was blinking himself awake now, rubbing his eyes with curled fists, immediately putting out his arms for his father. Saying into his ear

"Da-deeee…"

"I know, I know," Erik chuckled, "You're hungry. Come along then"


	6. Chapter 6

6.

It had eventually been over a week before Hank had been content enough to try the console out again. During that time, he hadn't lost anymore eyebrow, but had created a number of extremely cute small pink baby mice from his lab animals, some of which he had kept simply because they were too adorable to return to their real age. Over the intervening time, Erik had got absolutely nothing of any note or productivity done, gently refused the babysitting offers in favour of spending his every waking moment with his son. Jubilation had brought her camera in, desperate for a photograph of the adorable little scamp she had absolutely fallen in love with, and now Erik had a small collection of Polaroid snaps in the drawer of his desk. Absolutely certain that his favourite was the one in which Peter had decided to stick his tongue out and cross his eyes, looking so goofy and hilarious that his father had been caught laughing by the picture.

In fact, Erik had done more laughing that week than he thought he had done in the past few years. Peter was a little bundle of energetic fun and cuteness that warmed his heart every time he set eyes on him. He'd even started waking quite naturally at 3AM and almost sleepwalked down to get him his sandwich, falling back to sleep immediately as soon as Peter was ready to settle down again once refilled. They had spent the days happily, playing with blocks, feeding the lakeside ducks, even venturing down to the playground Xavier had built for the Juniors, where Peter had kicked his legs delightedly and urged Erik to push him higher and higher on a swing, spent an hour in the sandpit and seemingly brought a great deal of it home in his socks and shoes. Sat contentedly in Erik's lap after lunch and allowed his father to read for a while, curling up happily and toying with the buttons of Erik's shirt as if they fascinated him, one thumb stuck in his mouth and a forefinger stroking rhythmically over his nose. Continued to be quiet and peaceful and seek out contact as often as possible.

When the time had come for Hank to finally tell Erik that he could give him his adult son back, he'd gone quietly up to his study to find him, seeing the door open a little and assuming that knocking wouldn't be required. As he entered, he had seen Erik on his hands and knees on the floor, turned away from the door so that he had not realised he was being observed. Peter was perched up on his back, holding on to a handful of his shirt with both hands, those infectious little giggles filling the room.

"Giddyup, Horsie!" he was crying out, took one hand off his shirt to pat Erik's side firmly, "Go faster!"

Obligingly Erik had reared up just a little, making Peter scream delightedly and clutch on tighter, and proceeded to shuffle around the floor a little faster, making some quite convincing whinies and snorts as he did. 'Galloping' around the desk and stopping short as he saw Hank's shoes in the door, eyes travelling up to see the doctor looking very amused. Erik cleared his throat, gently requested that his son get down, got to his feet with a vain effort at grasping for some dignity.

"No more horsies?" Peter asked quietly, gazed up at him.

"Horsy has to talk to the doctor now"

"That's silly!" Peter laughed, clambered up into Erik's desk chair, "Horsies can't talk!"

"Are you a talking horse, Erik?" Hank asked, grinned at him and received a venomous look in return.

"You tell anybody what you saw here and I'll scorch off your other eyebrow. Slowly. Did you want something?"

"I think I've fixed the console. I managed to get a few mice de- and re-aged, I'm ready to try it with Peter now" he noticed that Erik looked a little saddened, "Unless you don't want me to?"

Erik looked over at his son, using the desk to push the chair into a spin and chuckling away to himself. Thought of how peacefully he had been sleeping without the demands his mutation placed on him, how happy he had been that past week with no greater needs than that for comfort and secure attachment. How wonderful it would be if he could have kept him this way, been the father he had not been in the proper course of things, but Erik knew that by doing so, he would be depriving a great many people of him. The team would cope, but they were stronger with his skills than without. Wanda might not take well to suddenly having a twin 23 years her junior, and as for his girlfriend, Erik doubted she would be very pleased either. It was in Peter's best interests to let him return to his proper age, rather than succumb to the temptation to keep this happy little bundle for himself. He had a life to go back to, after all. Reluctantly, Erik had picked his son up out of the chair, cuddled him tightly against him, nodded to Hank.

"We're going to go with the doctor now, okay Peter?" he told him gently, "Don't worry, there's nothing to be scared of. Daddy will be right here"

"But m'not sick" he said, puzzlement clouding his face, "Why we going to the doctors?"

"It's alright" Erik soothed, "It will all make sense soon"

They had got a confused little Peter tucked under a blanket in the infirmary before too long. Hank handed out protective glasses having been warned by Scott about the bright flare the machine emitted, but even so they had both reflexively turned away when that happened. When they had looked back, Peter was still laying comfortably in the bed, appearing to be either asleep or unconscious, restored to his full age. A moment later his eyes had opened, and he'd sat bolt upright, looking around him and making to get off the bed. Hank quickly jumped forward

"Stop right there!" he warned, laid a hand on Peter's chest and pushed him back, "You're naked"

"What?"!" the boy peeked under the blanket, saw Hank was right, "Why am I naked?!"

"Did you want to be brought back to full size in toddler's clothing?" Erik asked, gave him a stern look that was belied by the hand that took his and gripped it firmly, "You do remember what's happened don't you?"

"Kinda… it's a little fuzzy, but it's comin' back."

"How do you feel?" Hank asked anxiously, jumping in with his stethoscope and thermometer, "I know you hate it but I'll want to run a full battery of tests and measures on you just to compare them to your previous physical data, make sure there's been no –"

"Whoah, Hank… enough with the technobabble, seriously" Peter told him, "I feel fine. Great in fact. But if you think it's important you can do your tests. Just don't take too long, K? I only had a kiddie portion for lunch and I'm dying of hunger"

"And he's back" Hank murmured, smiled at Erik, "Let's get you some clothes on and we can get everything started. As long as you're sure you feel alright?"

"Yeah," Peter smiled, gazed up at his father, "Never better."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N : Final chaper of this one. I'm going to miss Toddler!Peter so much too, isn't he just the most adorable little thing? Thanks all readers and reviewers as always. As I've said I'm working on two long, multi-chapter prompts at the moment and want to get a fair chunk done before I start posting, but if you want to see anything shorter and posted faster, feel free to prompt and request. You know by now that I will write almost anything.**

7.

"You're fine," Hank said. Peter rolled his eyes, grabbed his t-shirt to slip back into.

"Yeah, I know. I knew that before you did. Can I go now? Is that Okay?"

"Yes, you can –"

"Awesome. Dadneto? Catch you in the morning, K?"

"The morning?" Erik looked puzzled, "What are you doing now?"

"What I do best, dude"

"You're going for a run?"

"No. I'm going to go eat everything I can lay my hands on and go to sleep. I told you, I'm absolutely starving and every second you keep me here talking is a second wasted, so can I please just – OOF!"

Unseen by Peter, Scott had heard his voice when he'd been passing by the infirmary door, rushed in and unexpectedly thrown his arms around the boy's waist, squeezing him so tightly it felt like he was trying to give him the Heimmlich.

"Oh my god Maximoff, you wouldn't believe how glad I am to see you!"

Scott told him, squeezed until Peter had pulled his arms forcibly apart. Gave Scott a curious look them reached for paper and a pen from Hank's trolley, held it out to the other boy

"I want that in writing" he grinned, "S'good to see you too man. And hey? No hard feelings"

"Really?"

"Really. Honestly I think we should keep that machine – being a toddler for a week is like the best vacation ever, you should try it. Now really, anyone else got something urgent to say to me? No? Great"

With that he was gone in a blink, presumably to find the nearest open pizzeria and make a thorough pig of himself. Erik had missed the little body beside him when he went to bed that night, taken a long time to drift off without the soft sounds of a child's breathing in the room. Still found himself semi-awake and downstairs making a sandwich before he had even thought about it at 3AM the next morning.

Realising what he'd done, Erik smiled a little sadly then was struck by an idea, carrying the sandwich and milk up to his son's room, where he could hear the smallest little signs of movement. Tapping on the door quietly, and entering to see that Peter was just awake, still sitting in his bed in pyjamas with his hair sticking up, rubbing his eyes and looking thoroughly confused at Erik's appearance.

"Dad?" he yawned, "Whatcha doing here?"

"I thought I'd bring you breakfast in bed" he said, placed the plate on the nightstand, took a seat on the edge of the bed, couldn't help smoothing down the waves of unruly silver with one hand, "Or the start of breakfast, at any rate"

"Thanks!" Peter beamed at him. The sandwich was gone in seconds, the milk likewise, sitting back against the pillows contentedly, "Hey, I didn't say, but thanks for the past week. It's been awesome"

"Really?" Erik looked incredulous, "You… didn't mind being a helpless child?"

"Doesn't matter if I was helpless, dude. I had an amazing Dad to take care of me," he smiled sweetly, reached out a hand. Erik took it immediately, forgetting for a moment that he wasn't a baby anymore, "You were brilliant. I never realised what a sweet Dad there was under that crusty old exterior"

"It's 3AM and I've not slept well, Peter. Don't push it"

His son laughed at that, hauled himself out of the bed and began stretching out. Erik couldn't help but think of the little boy flexing his non-existent muscles proudly, smiled fondly at him.

"I had a good week too" he said quietly, "You were a very well-behaved child. What went wrong?"

"Oh I dunno – hormones? My X-gene? Not having the kindest Dad in the world around to push me on the swings?"

"You really remember everything?"

"Sure do" he smirked, "Especially the horsie rides, those were *amazing* - you know you could still do that, I'm pretty light"

"Not if you begged on your hands and knees," Erik told him firmly. He zipped off into the closet, returned a moment later with his sweats on, kneeled to tighten the laces of his trainers.

"You wanna come for a jog with me?" He asked hopefully, "I'll take it slow, I promise"

"What's 'slow' to you? Only 200 miles an hour? It's a kind offer, Peter, but I'm going back to bed. Some of us need more than four hours sleep"

He allowed his son to find his headphones, collect his keys, strap on the belt with everything he needed, before at last he had asked

"Peter, when you were de-aged… Did you have your adult memories? You seemed to retain something, I'm not sure though"

The boy looked thoughtful, Came to sit down on the edge of the bed, shoulder-to-shoulder with his father. Snuggling close even now – Erik had never noticed how close he liked to sit to people before, but it seemed the obvious antecedent of his cuddle-seeking nature as a child.

"Kinda… but kinda not" he said, frowned and tried to find the words, "Like I knew some stuff, but it was as if the memories were there but I couldn't access them. Does that make any sense?"

"I think so. Hank thought your undeveloped brain might not be able to process adult thoughts"

"Yeah, it was like that, I think. I didn't feel like I do now though – emotionally, I mean" he fell silent a moment, looked up at Erik a little sadly, "It was nice, not having a tornado in my head. Peaceful. I sort of miss it. I wasn't worried about anything, and you made me feel really safe, so I didn't even get fretful about Mom not being here, or Wanda. It was really great"

Erik put an arm around his son's shoulders. Peter sank gratefully into it, rested his head against Erik's shoulder for a few minutes, feeling his father's head come to rest against his own. After a while, he had realised that the arm around him was feeling heavy and limp, nudged his father. He sprung out of a doze with an undignified little snort, blinked blearily at him.

"You go on back to bed, Dadneto" he grinned. "When you're up later though, do you have much planned for the day?"

"No, I should catch up on some work, but nothing that can't wait"

"Cool," the boy said, "Wanna go feed the ducks later?"


End file.
